


kiss me with your fist, it's alright

by catchafallingstarfish (spaceboy_niko)



Series: who writes songfics in 2017 [1]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Established Relationship, Like a ton of it, M/M, Miscommunication, also jack only gets a mention once so sorry abt that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-08
Updated: 2017-10-08
Packaged: 2019-01-09 00:49:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12265524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spaceboy_niko/pseuds/catchafallingstarfish
Summary: They're at each other's throats most of the time, but the tension is what makes them click and realise that they're doing just fine.





	kiss me with your fist, it's alright

**Author's Note:**

> title from "be your shadow" by the wombats. it's a banger, check it out.
> 
> AU in the sense that neither of 'em are with their respective partners, much as i love both meg and lindsay

_[two weeks ago]_

The beer tasted like piss in that particular bar, so Michael ordered shots. It was a beating to his wallet and, he noticed, the clarity of his vision. The bar was a bit of an eyesore, so the gentle fuzziness made it slightly more tolerable.

Michael grimaced as he tossed back the shot, salt lingering in the corner of his mouth.

Two more weeks.

 

***

 

The beer was actually quite a lovely local brew, but it didn’t feel right to Gavin. The conversation buzzed pleasantly in his ears, and no one seemed to notice his noncommittal responses that didn’t actually mean anything.

Gavin took a longer sip to avoid saying anything, and wiped the foam from the corner of his mouth.

Two more weeks, and then back in Austin. 

 

***

 

 “You’re going _again_? What is it this time? They threatening to deport you? A long-lost second uncle died and you inherited a castle in Scotland? Dan miss your little twink ass?” Michael spun round in his chair to face Gavin, looking dubious.

Gavin messily sorted through the stuff on his desk, sweeping some of it into his bag and pushing some further back. “Nah, none of those. Dad’s birthday. And it’s only for two weeks. Why do you sound so hard done by?”

Michael sighed and leaned his elbow on his desk. “Gav, we’ve been doing this for however long now, and. Well, you’re never here. It’s always off somewhere exotic filming slow mo, or back in England, or fucking _globetrotting_ even, and, well, I feel like I should have a bit more of a place in your life than you seem to think.”

Gavin peered into a mug, wrinkled his nose, and put it back. “Look, Michael–"

“Fucking look at me when you talk to me, _G_ _avin_.”

Gavin turned, hands on his hips. “Better now, Miss Bossy-boots?”

“Yes. Now, what were you saying?”

“Michael, I don’t _plan_ for some of this shit to come up. You know my work and my family are such high priority, you knew what you were in for when we started this! I can’t just drop everything to be at your beck and call, so you’re going to have to grow a pair and learn to bloody deal with it!” Gavin’s voice raised to a shout, but Michael didn’t flinch.

“So that’s how it is, then, hmm?” Michael said evenly. “Boyfriend takes the back seat while you gallivant off around the world? Have fun, then.”

“Wha– Michael, did you even lis–”

“Save it, Gavin. Evidently I’m not a big enough part of your life for you to actually consider how I might feel if you just keep impulse-jumping on every plane out of this country.”

“Mi–”

“I said cut the bullshit, Gavin!” Gavin blinked at Michael’s yell before zipping his bag with a decidedly sharp tug.

“Alright then. I’ll see you at home.”

Michael nodded curtly, already sliding his headphones back on.

“Trouble in paradise? I just walked past Gavin and he looked– oh.” Jack saw the look on Michael’s face and cut himself off, skirting a wide path around the tense air of Michael’s desk.

 

***

 

The thick silence continued when Michael unlocked the front door and shouldered it open, kicking off his shoes and leaving them haphazardly near Gavin’s. The lights were on, as if Gavin was expecting him, but there was nothing to greet him except the sight of washed and neatly-stacked dishes for one and what looked to be pasta on the stove.

 _Nice of you to not let me starve_.

It was on the wrong side of lukewarm, but Michael ate it anyway, listening to the hum of the fridge and the clink of his fork against the ceramic of the bowl. The muffled noise of a first-person shooter came from upstairs, too faintly to pick the game.

It cut out in the middle of Michael’s washing up, and the water thudded on and off in the bathroom above him. He listened as he dried and put away both of their bowls, and the creaks of the floorboards were soon followed by silence.

Turning off the lights behind him, Michael walked quietly upstairs, skipping the squeaky fourth stair from the bottom and brushing his teeth in a record time that would make a dentist cry.

Gavin was asleep when Michael tiptoed in, pulling pyjamas out of a drawer as silently as he could and changing in the dark before gently lifting the covers and sliding in next to Gavin.

Double-checking the alarm marked ‘take british prick to airport’ was set early enough, Michael set his phone down and fell asleep to Gavin’s breathing.

 

***

 

Michael’s phone lit up and blared on the bedside table. Groaning, he rolled over to shut it off.

Five-thirty. Should be early enough for Gavin.

He slid on his glasses and padded downstairs to make a coffee. A clean mug sat on the countertop with a note written beside it.

_Caught a cab to airport, you can go back to sleep if you want. See you in two weeks._

_\- Gav_

It was the tersest note he’d ever received.

 

***

 

The cabbie evidently didn’t want to be awake at that godforsaken hour either. Gavin sat in the back, fidgeting to the early morning radio.

Gavin glanced at the clock in the front of the cab. Five-thirty. Michael would be waking up around now.

Maybe he shouldn’t have been so rushed with his note. He didn’t exactly want to share a car ride with Michael if he’d still been in a mood, but in hindsight he should have apologised in some way.

He shot off a quick text to Michael. An “I’m sorry, have a good day at work”, nothing more.

The cab stopped abruptly, and Gavin fumbled over some bills before going to wait in the airport for half an hour longer than he’d planned.

When he landed and walked out of the airport with the grace of a rumpled flyer, he hailed a cab with his mates in tow and went straight from his hotel to the nearest bar that wasn’t shite, unaware that in six hours’ time, Michael would decide to do something very similar.

 

* * *

 

_[one week ago]_

 

Michael ignored Gavin’s text for a week. The tequila had almost convinced him to text back, but the pounding headache and the fact that his wallet was about thirty dollars lighter told him that he would have regretted whatever he did that night.

Now he was stone cold sober, and the space in the bed next to him was feeling pretty stone cold too.

He didn’t know what compelled him to press ‘call’ on Gavin’s contact, but there he was, lying in bed with his phone to his ear and listening to it ring.

A sleep-bleary voice answered. “‘Lo?”

“Hey, Gav, it’s me.”

“Michael, why the Christ are you calling me at three in the bloody morning?”

“Oh. Shit. Yeah. Sorry, time differences. Didn't check.”

“Yeah.”

They lapsed into silence, the conversation already awkward, the only sound their breathing.

“So, is there any reason you’re calling, Michael?”

“Nah.” Michael tried to sound casual. “Jus’ wanted to talk to you, is all.” A pause. “You know, I am sorry. For, y’know, blowing up at you.”

“As you should be.” Michael inwardly flinched - so this was it, it had been nice while it lasted - before Gavin started laughing, a quiet, sleepy chuckle. “I’m just messin’ with you.”

“Oh, thank Christ.”

A yawn came from Gavin’s end, and Michael laughed. “Should let you get back to sleep then.”

“Mhm. Got a shoot tomorrow. Today? Today. Gonna be tippy top, whenever it is.” Gavin yawned again, and Michael found himself stifling a yawn.

“Well, have fun. Come back home to me in one piece. I’ll talk to you again at a more decent time for you, ok?”

“‘Course.”

Michael hesitated, fidgeting with the corner of the bedspread. "Alright then. Bye, Gav."

"Bye, Michael."

  _And you couldn't bring yourself to tell him you love him, ya prick_ , Michael thought bitterly as the call disconnected and he was left with the gently glowing screen.

 

***

 

Gavin didn't notice he was acting out of sorts until Dan pointed it out over post-shoot bevs.

"B, did you even sleep? You look a right mess."

Gavin fiddled with the coaster under his drink. "Michael called last night, bloody idiot forgot about the time difference and rang at three in the blasted morning. Didn't really get back to sleep after that."

"Americans. What can you do about them?" Dan laughed, then frowned. "He hadn't called you before that, had he? Didn't even make sure you'd landed safely. What, did you two dramatically break up or something?"

Gavin shook his head, drawing lines in the condensation to the edges of the tacky circle to keep avoiding eye contact. "We...fought. Before I left. Didn't get to wish him a proper goodbye." 

"Don't tell me you were a prick and left without telling him."

Gavin pointedly ignored him.

"Did you apologise for it?"

"By text," Gavin mumbled to his pint.

Dan sighed with a kind of fond frustration. "By bloody– Gavin, were you a half decent boyfriend on your early-morning phone call and did you tell him you loved him?"

Gavin's ears pinked up.

"Did you at least say goodnight? Or something more than 'bye, Michael'?" Dan waited for Gavin's lack of response, and sighed again. "You really are the worst boyfriend."

"I know." Gavin had run out of water to smear across the table, and resignedly faced Dan.

"Soon as we finish these, I'm going to take you home, pack all your stuff, and pack you onto the first flight out of here in a fireman's lift if I have to. I don't know what you two fought about, but you're going to go home, say you're sorry, talk it out with Michael, and then get your arse buggered, because you look like you need that, too. Now let's get this done as quickly as possible, please."

"Yes, Mum," Gavin mocked weakly, and took another sip.

 

***

 

Michael had stopped yelling at the TV a long time ago when his voice started echoing around the empty house, and seethed quietly when the batteries in his controller died. His footsteps sounded a lot bigger and angrier than he'd have liked as he searched the house for batteries.

The double-A's eluded him this time, and he exasperatedly wrote himself a note to buy more before Gavin came back in just under a week. Because Lord knew they'd need them then.

A muffled jingle came from outside and Michael's head shot up. The sound was all-too familiar, and yet he knew he shouldn't be hearing it for another week.

The lock thunked in the door, and Michael gaped at the dishevelled figure of Gavin, laden with baggage, struggling to open the door and falling into the hall.

Before he could speak, Gavin coughed slightly. "Punch me."

"What?"

"I-if you want to. I've been a right nob, so I guess I deserve it." Gavin shrugged a little.

Michael stared. Gavin went on.

"I've been kind of a shitty boyfriend–"

"Damn right you have," Michael commented drily.

"Shut up. I spent the entire ten hour flight rehearsing this, and I don't want to botch it up now."

Michael pretended to zip his lips, and nodded for Gavin to continue.

"As I was saying, I've been kind of a shitty boyfriend and I should have listened to you when you said I need to sort out my priorities, because you really should be a bigger part of my life and I also felt really damn terrible for leaving without telling you or talking to you or calling you earlier and then Dan basically threatened to manhandle me out of England in the name of the Queen so here I am, and you can just. Lay one on me. A punch, I mean. A fist-kiss. I won't mind." Gavin looked tense, waiting for Michael to react.

"A fist-kiss," Michael said levelly.

"I'm trying to be all romantic and shit!"

Michael nodded. "Uh-huh."

"Look, I get it if you want me to bugger off or shove my house keys up my arse or something, you're allowed to get mad at me! I'm more worried that you're being so chill about me coming back , actually.” Gavin piled his bags against the wall and rubbed his shoulder where the strap had been.

Michael shook his head and smiled softly. “I’m not mad at you, boi. If anything, you should be mad at me. I was just being a selfish little bitch about it all, Gav.”

“What– no! You had every reason to be mad!”

"Bullshit! I should've known better, I know that it's such a big part of your life, all that travelling and stuff, and I would've been a shitty boyfriend to try and stop you from doing that!"

"Oh, come on!"

"Are we seriously gonna argue again about why we were arguing? This is ridiculous!” Michael grumbled with a grin.

“ _You’re_ ridiculous,” Gavin told him, stepping closer and wrapping his arms around Michael, pressing their noses together in an Eskimo kiss.

“We’re ridiculous together,” Michael corrected.

“True,” Gavin laughed. “I’ll buy you a plane ticket so you can come on the next trip. First class, both ways.”

“And a five star hotel?”

“Obviously. We’ll bang for, like, three days straight on their nice sheets.”

“Ew, gross.” Michael wrinkled his nose at Gavin’s suggestive eyebrow waggle and laughed when Gavin kissed him, playfully nuzzling his neck. "Stop that, your travel scruff tickles!"

"You love it anyway."

 

* * *

 

 

_ [now] _

 

 

Gavin was doing the sweep-everything-off-the-desk-before-I-leave ritual. Michael half-watched him as the progress bar on his screen inched forwards.

"Really, Gav? How much of your work stuff are you going to need in _Rome_?" Michael's voice squeaked on the word 'Rome' – Gavin had made good on his word, pulling some strings at work and cashing in his miles to produce two first-class return tickets. Michael had spent the week counting down the days and excitedly making plans.

Gavin looked at the bag and shrugged, placing it on the desk and spinning slowly in his seat. "Prob'ly none of it, to be honest. Be spending some quality time with my boi, won't I?" He smiled warmly, and Michael thought he looked absolutely fucking radiant. 

He wheeled his chair over to Gavin's and kissed him on the nose. "Hell yeah, you will be. No time for work, only long scenic walks..."

"Gorgeous food."

"Poolside Bellinis."

"Fancy Renaissance places."

"Fucking like animals in the villa."

"And not having to wake up afterwards for hours," Gavin finished, and snickered as Michael kissed him again, slightly off-centre. "Sounds toppy tippers, love."

**Author's Note:**

> come find me on tumblr (spaceboy-niko.tumblr.com)
> 
> or check out my writing blog if you like! (catchafallingstarfish.tumblr.com)


End file.
